


Practice Makes Perfect

by lolo313



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur's POV, Drabble, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-01
Updated: 2014-04-01
Packaged: 2018-01-17 20:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1400887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolo313/pseuds/lolo313
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Morgana finds out Arthur has never kissed anyone, she teases him relentlessly. So Arthur has to kiss somebody, FAST. Enter Merlin, because what else are loyal servants good for? </p>
<p>Drabble</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

            As Morgana’s rolling laughter shook her body and echoed off the walls of her bedroom, Arthur chided himself for every having agreed to play her stupid game. Really though, he should have been suspicious of anything called _Secrets, Secrets_ , where the whole goal was to out-confess your opponent. And he had to admit, Morgana was good— _really good_. Arthur had opened with the time he stole Uther’s crown for a whole day, wearing it in the private confines of his chambers, marveling at the weight of it on his head. Morgana rebutted with a bottle of wine, pinched from the kitchens, which she and Gwen downed in one night, till neither of them could stand. He’d been certain that stumbling upon two servants rutting like pigs in the castle scullery would be impossible to top, but Morgana was not one to be so easily outdone; she told him about the time when, as he helped her to mount a horse, a stable boy had placed a hand on her bum, and how she’d let him keep it there for nearly half a minute, just to see if she’d feel any different after the fact, which she hadn’t. Morgana didn’t have to gloat—the smirk curling the lines of her mouth, the twinkle in her dark eyes, did it for her. She tasted victory. But Arthur _hated_ losing, especially to Morgana, who became insufferable for days afterwards. So he’d resorted to his secret weapon, to the one thing he’d never told anyone. This was not at all the reaction he’d been expecting.

            “What do you mean _never_?” Morgana, between bouts of breathless laughter, managed to choke out. Like an emerald in a velvet jewelry box she rocked back on her bed, the silk and satins of her clothes whispering with the sheets, nearly drowned out by her mirth. “Never _ever_? Not even _once_?” Arthur’s bottom lip jutted out in a heavy pout, and if his eyebrows scowled together any further there was a good chance they’d fuse into one, bushy line of discontent. And though he’d be the last to admit it ( _it was simply a bit stuffy in Morgana’s room, that’s all_ ) a pink blush blossomed on his cheeks, warm and incessant as Morgana tried, and failed, to contain her giggling. “In all these years, after all those Lords parading their daughters about, you, Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot, mean to tell me that you have _never_ kissed someone?” 

            Arthur made to speak, but what could he say? It was, after all, true. But it wasn’t like he could just kiss anyone he fancied! He had a certain reputation to uphold, and being the son of the King held a decided risk of scandal, especially if caught in unbecoming situations with those who discretion could be so easily discarded for a few gold coins. It’s not like Arthur hadn’t _wanted_ to kiss someone, he was practically a man grown, he had desires like everyone else, but his duty to the realm came first. When the time was right, with a loyal, trustworthy partner he would finally indulge, but until then…

            His mouth bassed open and close, Morgana tipped forward on her knees expectantly, but eventually Arthur simply looked down at the floor, red-faced. When she fell backwards, laughter redoubled, Arthur pushed to his feet, storming from the room, stomping back to his chambers.

            Merlin, from his position crouched by the hearth, jumped at Arthur’s sudden arrival, just as shaken as the hinges, which rattled as the door slammed shut.

            “Is everything alr—”

            “Shut up, Merlin.”

            Muttering an insult under his breath, Merlin returned to the boots in his lap, the polish brush scratching against the worn leather. Arthur huffed and stalked about, grumbling, _stupid Morgana, stupid game, stupid can’t-kiss-anyone-cause-I’m-a-Prince_. At length he paused his pacing, having nearly worn a circle into the stone floor, and darted a glance up at Merlin; he had felt his servant’s eyes following him, a concerned, slightly bemused arch in his brow. He opened his mouth to advise Merlin that, if he valued his head he’d do good to keep his thoughts to himself and concentrate on his work, when a brilliant idea sprang to life in his mind. In two quick strides Arthur crossed the room; Merlin, startled, scrunched instinctively against the stone of the hearth, raising a half-polished boot in defense. When no blow came, he peaked meekly up at Arthur, who stood before him, hands on hips, conniving glint in his eyes.

            “Can I help you, Sire?”

            “Kiss me.”

            “…what?” Merlin wiggled a finger in his ear, certain he must have misheard Arthur, because there was absolutely _no way_ that he had just asked him to—

            “I said, kiss me.”

            “Look, not that I’m not flattered or anything,” Merlin drawled in what he hoped was a casual tone that did not belie the rapid beating of his heart. He stood, brushing dirt from his pants’ legs. “But…why?”

            “Once she stops laughing Morgan will never let me live down the fact I’ve never kissed anyone, so I have to do something about it…now!”

            “Wait…you mean you’ve never—”

            “Merlin!”

            Arthur had been about to shout something else, something about _duty_ and _loyalty_ and _shut up and just do as I say_ , but then Merlin fisted handfuls of his tunic, tugging him forward to crash their lips together. At first Arthur could not move, could not breath, stood paralyzed as Merlin’s mouth moved against his own, chapped lips pressing, entreating. A strange fluttering overtook his stomach, as if on the verge of an uncertain battle, and his heart beat out madness. But slowly his body woke as if from slumber; tentatively, he grasped Merlin’s arms, unaware till just then how unsteady, how drunk, he felt. Sensing his easing, Merlin loosened his grip on Arthur’s shirt to cup his fingers against his side. Warmed from work, their heat bled through the thin fabric; the skin beneath tingled. And then Arthur was kissing back, working his mouth around the unfamiliar curves of Merlin’s lips, sounding out words in a language he’d heard, just now, for the very first time. He slid his hands up Merlin’s forearms, thumbs kneading the pliable flesh, running against the rough fabric of his tunic, long since worn smooth by use and washing. It felt like falling, except the ground never came up to meet you.

            But then Merlin was pulling back and Arthur wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes, but he must have, for now they fluttered open and he realized how close Merlin’s face was, and how had he never noticed the tint of red on the tips of his ears when he blushed? Arthur tried to swallow but his throat constricted and he coughed instead, rocking back on his heels from where he had unconsciously leaned forward.

            “Well…just wait till Morgana hears this!” Arthur made as if to move but Merlin stilled him with a polite _ahem_.

            “Technically, you’ve still never kissed anyone.” Arthur’s head snapped round, face masked in confusion. He pointed at his lips, then to Merlin, then back, as if asking _what was all that then_? “Well, I mean, you’ve _been kissed_ now, but you still haven’t properly kissed anyone yourself. So if you really wanted to be able to gloat then you should, well, I mean if you wanted to I could…” Merlin looked down at his feet, shuffled back and forth. A grin opened across Arthur’s face as he scooped his servant into his arms, pulling him close till their foreheads touched. Merlin, for once, was right, and after all, practice makes perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> This little drabble idea came and just wouldn't go away. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for taking the time to read, I do so hope you enjoyed yourself. 
> 
> As always, I welcome any and all thoughts, and I hope you all kiss someone today who thinks you're lovely.


End file.
